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Umm… His
Reluctant Bimbois
a work of fiction intended for mature readers. All characters are
fictional and are consenting adults over the age of 18 years. Names,
characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

I hypnotized my
19-year-old daughter to turn into a bimbo every time I snap my
fingers.

It really wasn’t
all that hard. I spent last weekend at a hypnosis conference I had
heard about in one of those online kink communities. When I saw the
headline on the website’s bulletin board, I thought it was a
training thing for doms, which I’ve never really believed in.
You’re either a dom or you aren’t. You don’t magically become
one at some bootcamp. But as I started reading the ad, it became
clear that it was mostly for role playing. And, it guaranteed
results.

I thought, what the
hell, right? I’ll give this a whirl, see if I can get my little
girl to become a walking, talking, breathing doll, ready to serve my
needs at my every whim.

I’d always had
somewhat of a Barbie-doll fetish. Not playing with them, mind you.
Well, you know what I mean. And the thought of my willful but
incredibly intelligent redheaded daughter—who was also a
nose-to-the-books Engineering major—taking on the appearance of a
toy with freakishly large tits and an empty head was enticing to say
the least.

I had never pictured
her that way whatsoever, so the transformation would be erection
inducing. And did I mention I’d been wanting a chance to fuck her
for months now? Juliet’s mom passed away years ago, rest her soul,
so it’s not like I’d be cheating.

Anyway,
like I said, it wasn’t that hard. I just had to record myself
reading a script and play it for her while she slept. It was three
hours of non-stop talking into a microphone, feeding her information
about what would happen every time I snapped my fingers. But the
conference and the work I’ve put into it has already paid for
itself. I’ve used it twice now, very briefly which I’ll explain
shortly. But let me just tell you: it fucking rocks.

I haven’t taken
advantage of her just yet. And by taken advantage, I mean “fucked.”
I’ve only transformed her for about fifteen to twenty minutes
because of one little problemo. Not really a problem, per se, but the
thing is, her body starts morphing before her brain empties, making
her incredibly resistant to the changes she’s going through at the
time. I’m still working on that. But luckily, she doesn’t have
any recollection of her bimbo behavior, so I can basically do what I
want without any repercussions.

I know. I’m a
lucky bastard.

So this weekend, I
have another conference to attend, this one work related. I have to
drive six hours for some computer software training, but luckily,
it’s at the beach. And I plan on taking Juliet with me and filling
her up, if you catch my drift. It will be my first time taking her
out in public while she’s fully transformed. And I cannot fucking
wait.

***

“This is going to
be a blast. Just me and the beach while I study for mid-terms.”

Juliet leaned down
and shoved her bookbag along the car’s floorboard. Her long, creamy
legs grabbed my attention, as did her tight little tank top she was
sporting. Juliet was pretty skinny, but when she bimbofied, her ass
and tits were outstanding. My cock did a mini happy dance in my pants
thinking about seeing both of them later on.

“Can’t you put
away the books for one weekend, Juliet? I think you’ve earned it.”

Honestly, she had.
Fortunately, my snapping fingers were ready to make that happen by
force.

“My
tests are week after next. I don’t want to get behind, Dad.”

I’m
going to get in your
behind, I thought. Cum in your behind, I should say. I was thinking
about it so hard, I wanted to pick up my phone and tweet
#AnalTonight! Every man’s dream, am I right? Well, let’s just cut
to the nitty gritty here. What straight man wouldn’t want a girl
who will accept him into any hole, any time he wants?

“I don’t want
you to get behind, either. I guess you can study while I attend the
conference tomorrow. But after that, I want you to myself, young
lady.”

I smiled in her
direction, thinking about all the things I would do to her. She gave
me a flat smile back.

“Yeah, sure. We
can hang out tomorrow night. Maybe find a restaurant on the boardwalk
overlooking the beach?”

“Toss in a couple
of beers and I’m there.”

We got checked into
the hotel—where we shared adjoining rooms—then spent some time
relaxing on the beach. I was torn with doing a little “snapping”
action before heading out to the sand and surf, but I would have felt
guilty if Juliet didn’t get some relaxation time in. Then she ended
up bringing her math book out there with a wine cooler in a plastic
cup, so I started having my regrets. No worries, though. There would
be plenty of time for my little bimbo after we ate.

After spending an
hour relaxing in the late afternoon sun, I told Juliet I was heading
back to our room to get ready for dinner. But what I really planned
to do was get her dress out of my suitcase and hang it up so it
wouldn’t be wrinkled when we went out tomorrow. I had picked it up
a few days ago at this boutique my ex used to shop at, and I
remembered all the cool, slutty dresses they sold.

For Juliet, I
purchased a hot pink sleeveless dress that gathered in the middle.
The neckline was more like a “tittyline” in that it scooped all
the way down the chest. There was barely enough fabric to cover her
breasts, and the hem would fall just above mid-thigh. Or just below
ass cheek, however you want to look at it.

The store had a
matching pocketbook and three-inch stilettos, and as I was checking
out, the girl seemed shocked that I wasn’t picking up some pink
diamond jewelry as accessories. I couldn’t believe I almost forgot
the fucking jewelry.

I also stopped at
the drugstore and grabbed all kinds of eyeshadow, lipstick, mascara,
fake lashes, perfume, blush … you know, one of everything. They
emphasized at this hypnosis conference how important these things
were to a bimbo. And I understood why. Hell, I knew how I wanted her
to look, too. So I came prepared.

I spread everything
out on my dresser, making sure it was all there, then I covered it
with a t-shirt so Juliet wouldn’t see it if she happened to walk
in. I dropped her heels on the floor beneath the dress, then shut the
narrow closet door, pretty fucking pleased with myself.

All through dinner,
I found myself staring at Juliet’s chest, picturing them inflating
to the hilt, and struggling with a boner the whole time.

“And you know I
have to maintain at least a 3.5 GPA if I want a decent shot at the
grad school of my choice.”

I nodded as Juliet
talked non-stop about school. My daughter was going places, and I was
fucking proud of her, no doubt. But sometimes I just wanted to tell
her to shut up. That school wasn’t everything. You know it’s bad
when a parent gets sick of their kid’s ambitions. I just wanted her
to be dumb, sometimes. Just a nice, dumb bimbo to hang out with and
fuck. Was that so much to ask for?